


Longing and Desire

by tomisweets



Category: Final Fantasy XIV
Genre: Accidental Voyeurism, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers, Final Fantasy XIV: Shadowbringers Spoilers, M/M, Patch 5.0: Shadowbringers Spoilers
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-10
Updated: 2020-01-10
Packaged: 2021-02-27 07:48:38
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,517
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22193584
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/tomisweets/pseuds/tomisweets
Summary: As the summoner of the Warrior of Light, the Exarch understands it's his duty and responsibility to look after Kiht'a during his stay in the First. Ever the excessive worrier, he uses the mirror of the Ocular to catch glimpses of Kiht'a to ensure his safety, but in his surveillance, he learns a hard lesson in giving the Warrior of Light the privacy he needs.
Relationships: G'raha Tia | Crystal Exarch/Warrior of Light
Kudos: 60





	Longing and Desire

**Author's Note:**

  * For [kotodamaxx](https://archiveofourown.org/users/kotodamaxx/gifts).



The Exarch always had a habit to check on the hero of the source, to take a peek through his mirror in the Ocular and ensure Kiht’a’s safety in Norvrandt. After all, containing the light of a single warden was unheard of, and here his friend was, containing several within his soul. Even with the blessing of light, the Exarch realized this was unprecedented, and while Kiht’a didn’t seem to have any adverse effects, well, one could never be too cautious.

Kiht’a… How long had it been since he last genuinely talked to him? The Exarch placed a hand on his mirror, all while he longed to do so again, to drop all pretenses and unmask himself and enjoy late night musings like they used to. Back when he’d listen to Kiht’a sing a song of the ancients; his voice a melody and tranquility in its harmony. How he yearned for those simple days of NOAH, and how his heart both sang and ached when Kiht’a asked if G’raha Tia arrived with the tower; a name he had almost forgotten. A name almost foreign to him now, and yet so nostalgic when it rolled off of Kiht’a’s tongue. But if he revealed he was G’raha Tia, the explanation it would take for Kiht’a to understand would inevitably lead to the Exarch revealing his full plan. Knowing that Kiht’a would likely disapprove of this endeavor, but needing this to go through as planned if the 8th umbral calamity were to be averted and his scion friends returned to the first, well, he had to keep his friend in the dark about all of it.

Thus, he lied. A lie for which he somewhat felt regret, for perhaps if he were to be truthful, he’d be able to talk again and at length with Kiht’a as they used to do, and perhaps Kiht’a would feel more at ease in the city the Exarch had created. At least, hopefully enough to actually use the inn room he had provided for him at the Pendants. Ever since the first battle at Holmeister, Kiht’a nearly always disappeared from the Crystarium, and the Exarch could do nothing more than worry and fret within his tower as he searched through images of Norvrandt for the Warrior of Darkness.  _ Though he probably doesn’t much care for that title _ , the Exarch thought to himself, searching through remote areas that didn’t get much foot traffic. Kiht’a never made it easy to find him either, always hopping from one empty area to another, singing that beautiful yet solemn tune, a lonely song.

He strained his ears to listen for it, from the fields of Il Mheg to the desserts of Ahm Amerg, but today he couldn’t hear it no matter where he looked. This only caused the Exarch to worry and fret, his palms clammy and his throat dry as he tried to search every available corner of Norvrandt, for if anything happened to Kiht’a while in his care, he wouldn’t be able to forgive himself. After exhausting every other location, the only other place the Exarch could think to look was within the Crystarium proper. First, he checked the Pendants. After all, Kiht’a was still only a person who had base instincts: Who needed food to eat, a warm bed to sleep in.

_ “Raha…” _

The breathy moan surprised the Exarch, and he nearly jumped at the sound while he clutched at his staff. Another moan, louder now, came through the mirror, and as the Exarch’s eyes looked towards it, he suddenly wished they hadn’t.

There, arched on the bed in the Pendants, was Kiht’a, his button down opened and nearly falling off his shoulder, his earrings swinging as the Moonkeeper pressed his ears back, the pretty little choker he wore that moved slightly with each moan, his chest rising and falling with each labored breath. His pale skin was reddened slightly, and his hand trailed down to… to…

The Exarch had to turn away from the mirror, and placed his left hand over his face, as if it would remove the image he had just seen. With his right hand, he fumbled with his staff, waving it in front of the mirror in the Ocular to vanish the image, leaving only crystal behind. He then dropped the staff as if it was an offending culprit and brought both hands to meet over his reddening face. But even if he could banish the lewd image from the eye, he couldn’t remove what he saw from his mind. Kiht’a’s arched body, the athletic build that hardly held any blemish, save for the mark on his right side, the length of his-

He shook his head, feeling his face heat and redden from the indecent thought.  _ “Raha” _ the voice rang in his head again, breathy and enticing, and he couldn’t help but imagine how it would  _ feel  _ if whispered right into his ear…

_ “Damn it all.” _ The Exarch hissed to himself as he stepped back, letting his back press against the crystal of the tower as his hand fell to his side, the other still pressing against his shut eyes. The more he wished to get rid of these images from his mind’s eye, the stronger his imagination filled in the blanks. And as his imagination took over, so too did his fantasies run wild. It had been an age since he felt this way, and yet, one look at Kiht’a like  _ that _ was enough to set the Exarch’s blood ablaze, to bring back those feelings from a simpler time, during his fiery days in NOAH.

He reached in between his robes, slowly stroking himself with his left hand as his right slipped down his face to cover his mouth, soft moans emitting from his own throat. His eyes closed as his mind drifted to Kiht’a’s frame over his own, soft skin reflected in the warm glow of lanterns, quivering and shaking as G’raha explored it with each touch of his hand or kiss of his lips. He would leave no part of his body untouched, would relish in the feeling of Kiht’a’s shallow breaths, would listen to Kiht’a moan his name over and over again. 

“ _ Nnhg~”  _ Just knowing that Kiht’a moaned his true name, his  _ intimate  _ name, it filled the Exarch’s heart with affection and desire, his pace quickening as louder moans and labored breaths slipped past his lips, unhindered by the hand over his own mouth. As the momentum started to build, he moved that hand to his side, clawing against the wall for support as he tilted his head up a bit more, his fantasies taking him to realms of foreplay, of biting, of kissing, of sucking, of arching and caressing and moaning. How would Kiht’a skin feel under his hands? He imagined Kiht’a’s battle hardened scars, imagined himself gently stroking and kissing where smooth skin met rough. He wondered if Kiht’a’s hands were smooth. Perhaps callused? Would they drag against his own skin, or would they be gentle as crystal met flesh? He groaned as he fantasized about their two bodies, pressed close enough for their breaths to mingle, the lustful expression Kiht’a would have when calling his name.

He wanted to taste his name.

_ “Kiht’a~” _

Exarch panted harder, tossing back his head amongst the intensity, his hood slipped off as his ears pressed back, moaning the name again. “ _ Kiht’a… Kiht’a!” _ He knew how shameless he looked, his hand rubbing his own cock, legs spread and skirt hiked as he leaned against the mirror of the Ocular, the same mirror that had shown the person of his affections so lewd to begin with. He knew he should be ashamed of himself. 

_ “Aah~!” _

Even with all the shame, the burning desire he had within him wouldn’t be quelled, and another moan ripped from his throat as he tensed, finishing as quickly as he started. He slid down the wall to the floor, his legs unable to hold his weight anymore, as he opened his eyes again, the room filled with only his breaths and the thrum of the tower.

His admiration for the WoL, for the vaulted hero of the source, was something he tried hard to maintain as distant, as an admiration like any other who came across his story. The day he had decided to seal himself in the crystal tower was the day he decided to seal his true feelings away: affection, endearment, devotion, desire. He had known, in that moment, they were never to be resurfaced again. But the day he was able to summon Kiht’a to the first was the day those seals started to break down. How he yearned to tell Kiht’a the truth, how he longed to be in his embrace. But the same thing that kept him from revealing his true name also kept him from admitting his true feelings. He looked down at the mess he made against the floor, frowning and lifting his cowl over his ears again as he set about to clean the mess he had made.

“There is still much work to be done.” 


End file.
